"For this reason--I must grieve papa and disappoint my mother." "Still, both these things have to be done. Some of the best men have been obliged to displease their parents in choosing a vocation. Women, in their marriages, are often driven to the same sad straits." "I know, but the prospect is most painful. I feel I could bear my own disappointment far better than I could bear theirs. Surely you understand?" "Too well." They had now reached the house, and Agnes's habitual manner at once re-asserted itself. Her voice, which had many rich notes, fell into the one unchanging tone she used in ordinary conversation. Her countenance seemed as placid as a pink geranium under glass. "Thank you for a very pleasant walk," she said to Sara. "I sha'n't forget it." "Nor I. And, please, after this, always call me Sara. And may I call you Agnes? We have just time now to write a few letters before dinner." CHAPTER XV Robert, accompanied by Lord Reckage, arrived in London the following Wednesday. Pensée and Brigit went from St. Malo to Paris, where the unhappy girl hoped to enter the Conservatoire. All had been arranged by Robert himself, and he had shown a calmness during the ordeal which might have deceived his two friends had they been even a little insincere themselves or a shade less fond. His Journal at that period contains two entries, however, which show that neither Lady Fitz Rewes nor Reckage were wrong in fearing he had received a mortal blow which no earthly influence could make endurable. _Oct., 1869._--I am once more at Almouth House. Beauclerk's consideration for me is almost more than I can bear. The rest is not borne. If it were not cowardly, I would go away alone, and brood at my leisure and yield to the appalling yet all but irresistible wretchedness which calls me, which I actually crave. An effort not to depress or discourage others may be right and my duty. I cannot be sure of this. Sometimes I feel as though it would be wiser to meet the dark hours and make acquaintance with them.... And what is to become of her? The longing to see her--even in the distance.... To-night I talked with Reckage about his Bond of Association. Most of the members feel toward him that insipid kind of hatred which passes for friendship in public life. If he were naturally observant, he would see this; if he were given at all to self-doubt, he would feel it. But his way is to regard most men as ill-mannered and well-meaning.